


Words Unsaid

by amagicbeyond



Series: Reverse Crypt Scenes [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s15e09 The Trap, M/M, Season/Series 15, Season/Series 15 Speculation, can't wait for Cas to finally understand his worth!, can't wait for Dean to finally tell Cas how much he means to him!, crypt scene redux, s15 wish fulfillment, sorta - Freeform, this fic is about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26276998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amagicbeyond/pseuds/amagicbeyond
Summary: Dean replayed a hundred scenes in his head, conversations filled with words like "we" and "need" and almost never an "I" or a "want." He replayed the moment he’d opened himself up and prayed to Cas in Purgatory, saying things he’d never said to anyone else. He thought about how they’d grown closer since then, and how he’d still sensed that Cas was holding something back, that there was still something left to say, that Cas was still afraid...Chuck has Cas under his control, and Dean finally learns how to use his words.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Reverse Crypt Scenes [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/106859
Kudos: 83





	Words Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> So I was thinking about Purgatory Redux in 15x09 and how well the writers this season revisited the themes and moments that Dean and Cas had there… and then I was thinking about how there was clearly still more to be said between them even after Dean’s beautiful prayer… and then I was thinking about the “I love you” that was scripted but didn’t make it into the nevertheless famous Crypt Scene… and then I was thinking about how God took control of Eileen to hurt Sam… and then this happened.
> 
> It’s not the original Crypt Scene… it’s not a Reverse Crypt Scene… I call it…Ultimate Crypt Scene.
> 
> Super rusty, super self-indulgent, super first draft-y, here it is anyway.

Cas's angelic strength made it far too easy for him to overpower Dean, pinning him to the wall, his right forearm pressed against Dean’s throat, his left hand gripping Dean’s shoulder. The impact forced the air from Dean’s lungs, brightness popping in his vision. He focused on blue eyes, inches from his face, wide and wet and horrified.

“Dean—” Cas gasped out, though his grip remained firm. “I’m sorry—”

“Aaaaaaaand that’s enough out of you, sweet cheeks,” Chuck chirped from where he watched, flicking a finger as though he was slashing it across Cas's neck. Cas's lips parted but no sound emerged. His face darkened in anger, but his arm pressed deeper into Dean’s throat before it wrenched away and let him drop to his hands and knees, gasping for breath.

Cas slid his angel blade from his sleeve. 

“Now,” said Chuck from somewhere behind him, his voice veering into that infuriating All-Powerful-Master-of-the-Universe-and-you-WILL-bow-to-me territory Dean was really growing to hate. “I’ll ask again. Where is the boy?”

Cas's eyes were pleading with him, but Dean had no intention of giving the kid up—Jack and Sam needed as much time for their Hail Mary mission as they could get. From the ground, he eyed the angel blade, slack in Cas's hand. He was pretty sure that being carved up by Cas was _not_ the ending Chuck had planned for him—but a little bit of torture porn in the meantime was probably just a nice treat for the sick bastard.

Dean kept his eyes on Cas's, putting on a smirk. “You know what, Chuck? Bite me.”

Cas lunged for him, hauling him up by the collar, the sharp tip of the blade drawing blood from Dean’s collarbone as he hung before him, toes trailing on the floor, nose-to-nose.

A tear rolled down Cas's cheek. Dean managed to smile. 

“Hey, Cas. Don’t worry. I know it’s not you.”

The blade slashed down his chest, once, twice, shallow but stinging. Dean couldn’t help the cry that escaped him as Cas let him drop. He fell to the ground again. 

“You know what?” came Chuck’s voice from somewhere unimportant. “Don’t tell me. The nephilim can wait, this is much more fun.”

Dean pressed a hand to his heart and it came away dripping. “Yeah, I heard you like to watch, you creepy bastard.”

It was the butt end of the blade this time, and Cas's fist and all of the unearthly power he could put behind it. From somewhere deep in Cas's throat came an agonized sound that threatened to tear Dean apart even as he felt his lip split, his cheek swell. Cas stood over him, fist raised once more. 

Dean felt the ridiculous urge to laugh. 

The last time they had been here, Dean had begged. He hadn’t understood why his best friend was pummeling the ever-living shit out of him, didn’t have a clue who _Naomi_ was and why Cas was invoking her name. He only knew fear and heartbreak and mind-numbing pain, and he’d only wanted it to stop.

_We’re family_ , he’d spluttered through the blood filling his mouth. _We need you._ He had known in that moment that it wasn’t enough. _I need you_. 

Other words had come to him, words that had almost spilled out but he had held them back, his fear greater even than his pain. It had been enough, then. 

Dean didn’t feel afraid now. 

“How about you, El Caso?” Chuck strolled into view, clapping the angel on the shoulder. “Had enough? Ready to spill the pintos? Let the cat out of the bag? Give the game away?”

Cas's eyes were locked on Dean’s as Chuck snapped his fingers, restoring his voice. Dean, imperceptibly, shook his head, every muscle in his neck protesting as he did.

“Never,” Cas said, his voice raw.

Chuck, for a moment, looked angry, but quickly recovered. “You know, I’m just realizing, this is probably therapeutic for you, isn’t it, Castiel? Giving what-for to the man who’s never _appreciated_ you? Who takes you for granted? Who only needs you on his team because you’re _useful_?”

_Wrong angle to take, you dumb son of a bitch. Cas knows better than that._

Cas dropped his eyes from Dean’s gaze. 

_Doesn’t he?_

Dean replayed a hundred scenes in his head, conversations filled with words like _we_ and _need_ and almost never an _I_ or a _want_. He replayed the moment he’d opened himself up and prayed to Cas in Purgatory, saying things he’d never said to anyone else. How they’d grown closer since then, and how he’d still sensed that Cas was holding something back, that there was still something left to say, that Cas was still afraid... 

“Go on,” said Chuck, clapping Cas on the back. “Let it all out. Have some fun.”

And Chuck turned his back and walked away as Cas slammed his fist into Dean’s face, once, twice, three more times. Dean spat blood and looked up at him through a haze. Cas's face was streaming with tears, his eyes downcast.

“Cas,” Dean managed. “Cas, look at me. Look at me!”

He said it forcefully enough that Cas listened, and looked up, the blade still raised in his hand. 

“I got—I got something to say,” Dean said, his heartbeat in his ears. “And I’m a dumbass for not saying it sooner.”

“Dean—” Cas said.

“I love you, Cas.”

The words were out, and he tried them out again.

“I love you, Cas. I don’t want you around because you’re handy in a fight, all right? I want you around because you’re—well, you’re just _you._ And that’s enough for me, okay? I don’t care about the bells and whistles.” Cas's eyes were wide and Dean’s mouth was dry. “Just you.”

There was a moment where all was still.

“How— _sweet_.” said Chuck, voice dripping with something poisonous. “Too bad it won’t—”

“You know what?” said Cas, arm still raised above his head. “Get fucked, Chuck.”

He opened his hand and let the angel blade fall. Dean lunged forward and caught it, turning as he fell, throwing the blade in the direction of Chuck’s voice. Despite the awkward angle his aim, or maybe his hatred, was true enough.

Bellowing, Chuck prised the harmless angel blade from between his ribs and pointed it at the two of them. “You two think you’re so cute. Just wait until you see the latest plot twist I have coming for you. We’ll see who gets the last laugh then.”

He vanished, leaving the blade to clatter to the floor. Dean, every nerve in his body on fire, looked up at Cas, who flexed his fingers, then dropped to his knees beside him.

“Dean, I—”

“He’ll be back,” Dean said gruffly. “And he’s still shit at exit lines. Do you have enough mojo left to help me out, here, man? We’ve got to let Sam and Jack know he’s onto them.”

“Dean,” Cas said again, but this time like a prayer. He moved carefully, first pressing a palm to Dean’s heart, then cupping Dean’s face in his hands. Dean watched the reflection of golden healing glow reflected in Cas's eyes. The pain seeped from his bones and he fell forward, slumping into Cas's chest, the angel wrapping his arms around him and letting him rest there, breathing, just breathing. 

“Dean, I love you too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> All in for the final season, let's go—I'm on tumblr as amagicbeyond.


End file.
